


Cyberwoman 1x04: Missing Scene

by scatterglory



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Dubious Consent, Episode Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-13
Updated: 2010-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-06 05:57:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatterglory/pseuds/scatterglory





	Cyberwoman 1x04: Missing Scene

Cyberwoman 1x04: Missing Scene

 

Ianto stared at the wall directly in front of him, over the top of Jack's head. His shoulders were even stiffer than usual, his hands clasped, Jack had no doubt, behind his back so tightly that his knuckles were white. The clenching of his jaw and excess rigidity of his pose, however, were the only physical indications he gave of what Jack was sure was his emotionally distraught state.

Jack gave no sign that he'd heard Ianto's calmly-delivered resignation. Instead, he sat quietly, examining Ianto, vaguely amused by the fact that the other man refused to fidget. He lounged in his chair, one foot on the seat, his elbow resting on his knee, and contemplated his next move.

_I don't want to overdo it. If nothing else, Gwen proved that even with a large dose, traumatic enough memories can be regained . . . no, I want him to remember her. I just don't want him to remember what it feels like to be this angry._

From anyone else, his thoughts would have been charitable, but as always, Jack's only concern was for the success of his mission—he couldn't very well let Ianto walk away with everything he knew about Torchwood, and the thought of training a new butler . . .

_One who probably wouldn't be nearly as efficient anyway. What a waste of time that would be. No, I'll keep Ianto. But first, I've got to get him over this whole resignation thing._

Ianto still hadn't moved, hadn't made eye contact. Jack cocked his head to the side, judging the best angle from which to approach. In one fluid motion he was out of his chair and moving around the desk. Ianto's breath caught as Jack stopped at his side, their bodies nearly touching; but he showed no other reaction.

Jack looked Ianto up and down, as well as he could from such a close range. _I've got to get him to purge whatever it is he's keeping back—otherwise, no matter how much of the drug I give him, he'll always have a nagging sense of whatever he's feeling right now. _ His eyes focused on Ianto's twitching jaw. _ I've got to make him break._

"Denied," he said in his flattest tone.

Ianto inhaled sharply, but didn't respond. Jack stepped back, and circled him slowly.

"So, that's what you really are," he said blandly to Ianto's back. "One problem, one setback, and you're ready to cut and run." He moved around to the other side. "I always thought you were weak." He paused, noting that the muscles in Ianto's jaw were moving nonstop. _ That has to be painful. _ The butler continued to stare at the wall, but Jack knew his eyes were seeing a mutilated, innocent body that had been killed twice—once by the woman he loved, and again by the people he'd thought were his friends.

"Just out of curiosity, where would you go?" Jack continued conversationally. "You're hardly suited for labor, you never graduated from University, and I don't think there's much demand for a butler in the real world." His tone became sympathetic. "I'm afraid no one will want you."

He could almost see the words forming in Ianto's mind—_She wanted me, she loved me, she wanted to be with me so much that she risked her own life by putting her brain into another body—_

Jack took a deep, invisible breath. _Here's where it gets tricky . . . _He stepped up until his mouth was by Ianto's ear. "She didn't want you," he whispered harshly. "She didn't want to be with you. She just wanted to survive. Everything she said, everything she did, was about survival. She told you what you wanted to hear because she knew you'd believe her, knew that you were too weak to kill her. She _used_ you."

Ianto's whole body shook. _ A little more, now . . ._

"And if you believe she loved you . . ." he stepped back, letting disgust color his words. "I should have let her kill you."

The wildly-thrown fist that connected with his jaw was more startling than painful, but he still reeled back. Ianto rounded on him, both hands balled into fists, his mouth closed so tightly his lips disappeared. _Almost there._ "Oh, so _now _you can fight? You couldn't fight to save your precious girlfriend, but you can hit me when I'm just telling you what, deep down, you already know?"

With a wordless cry, Ianto launched himself forward, knocking Jack over with the sheer force of his leap rather than with any skill. They collapsed to the ground, Jack momentarily winded by the weight of the other man's body landing on his, but he managed to grab Ianto's wrists before he could do any real damage.

"Shut up! Shut the hell up! You have no bloody idea what you're talking about—" Ianto's screams devolved into incoherence as he pummeled uselessly at Jack's face. "She _loved_ me, she _did_—!" Somehow Ianto managed to ram his knee into Jack's groin and Jack saw stars; Ianto used the advantage to climb on top of him and rain down sloppy blows to Jack's head. Jack brought his arms up in defense, but tears blinded Ianto's eyes and only a few of the blows managed to connect. One lucky fist caught Jack's cheekbone, however and he decided that was enough. Sliding a hand under Ianto's knee, he arched and twisted and flipped the other man onto his back. He pinned Ianto's wrists in one hand, supporting himself with the other, and sneered down at him.

"I don't know what I'm talking about, is that right? Why don't you tell me, then? Why don't you explain to me how you think a machine that's only purpose is to kill could possibly be capable of loving you?"

Ianto writhed underneath him, trying to work his body free, but Jack pinned him down hard. "You don't understand at all! She wasn't like—we were—I loved her!"

"Then maybe that says more about your stupidity than anything else!" Jack snarled. "Or maybe you just wanted what you couldn't have—maybe you needed to believe she loved you because you're too weak to be alone. Maybe you wanted her because she was a machine, because she was a killer, because she was stronger than you—!" He leaned forward between Ianto's legs, pressing down even harder, forcing the other man to _listen_ to him, _forcing_—

Ianto gasped—his shouts of rage cut off abruptly and his eyes flew open wide, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. "No—!" he moaned weakly. "That isn't true, it's not—" he choked off, body trembling underneath Jack. Jack's face was inches away from Ianto's neck; he could almost see his pulse jumping wildly under the skin, and for a dizzy moment he found himself distracted by the heat radiating from Ianto's trapped body. . . he raised his head and saw Ianto looking at him, eyes wide and terrified and angry, lips parted, cheeks flushed—

And then he was pressing Ianto's head back down to the floor, capturing Ianto's panting mouth with his own, erasing the accusation in his eyes as they fluttered shut of their own accord, grinding their hips together hard enough to make Ianto whimper once into his mouth. Jack pressed his tongue into Ianto's mouth, tasting him and claiming him all at once, pulling back far enough to bite down on his lip until Ianto moaned and writhed again underneath him. Jack worked his way down Ianto's neck, biting and sucking and keeping Ianto's hands pinned over his head as Ianto struggled half-heartedly against him. Jack returned to Ianto's face, kissing him roughly again and biting his earlobe before whispering hotly into his ear, "Is this what you want? Someone to hold you down, someone who's stronger than you? Is this why you couldn't let her go? Is this why you needed her?"

Ianto made a high, soft noise in the back of his throat and Jack thrust roughly against him through their clothes. "Do you need someone to hurt you?"

Ianto's head was tipped as far back as it could go, exposing the length of his throat. "No—no—" he moaned, but his hips bucked up against Jack's and his breathing was ragged in his chest.

Jack lowered his head to where Ianto's neck met his shoulder and bit down hard, making the other man cry out. "Did you really think she needed your protection?" he growled into Ianto's neck. "Did that make you feel good, knowing she needed you as much as you needed her?"

"That's not—ahh!" Ianto's protests were cut off as Jack transferred his weight to the hand restraining Ianto's arms and pressed his free hand down between them. Ianto was hard and hot, spreading his legs and thrusting up into Jack's hand. Soft sobs choked off in his throat as Jack gripped him almost painfully, alternately rubbing and crushing him with his palm. Ianto's breath came faster and shallower and Jack watched him dispassionately as his eyes rolled back in his head. Jack bent down to plunder his mouth again as Ianto came, bucking up violently into Jack's hand and moaning helplessly into his mouth. Then Jack pulled away abruptly, leaving Ianto alone and shaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Ianto curled up on his side, a pathetic, trembling ball, silent tears streaming down his face.

Jack rocked back on his heels and rose, retrieving a shot glass, a flask, and the vial from his desk. Ianto's eyes followed him as he poured a shot, then unstopped the vial and added a single drop of the ominous liquid. He swirled the liquid in the glass once, then knelt down in front of Ianto. "Drink."

Eyes wide, Ianto pressed his lips together in refusal. Jack's hand shot out, gripping his jaw painfully. "Drink," he repeated, his voice quiet with danger. Ianto began to tremble again, but he opened his lips slightly. Jack lifted the shot glass to his mouth and held it there until the liquid had vanished. "You're going to go home," he said in that same quiet tone, finally releasing him. "You're going to go to bed. You're going to wake up tomorrow. You're going to come to work." Ianto opened his mouth, but his protest died at Jack's expression. He got shakily to his feet. Jack didn't help him up. He didn't touch him at all, just followed him with cold eyes as Ianto stumbled, ears burning and eyes cast shamefully on the floor, out of the office.

Once the other man was gone, Jack returned to his desk. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and put his arms over his head. _Now the question is, how much will he remember tomorrow? _

* * *

The next day, Gwen was with him when Ianto returned to work. The butler entered slowly, stopping to look up at Jack where he stood, face expressionless. Ianto's face was neutral, almost hopeful, with no hint of the silent rage that had so recently consumed him. Jack nodded once, a slight inclination of his head. After a moment, Ianto responded in kind.

Gwen looked at Jack. "You would never have shot him, not really." She sounded so certain.

Jack watched Ianto's stiff back retreat, arms crossed over his chest. "Wouldn't I?" he asked her coldly.

The question echoed in his head as she continued speaking.

_Wouldn't I?_

Wouldn't I?

 

 

Wouldn't I?


End file.
